It's Only Temporary
by mini-eggs1
Summary: When the Baratie's sous-chef Sanji's told he's going to get his own waitress to work for him, he can't believe his luck... Until his "waitress" turns out to be a very bad-mannered, clumsy - yet very hot - green haired man...
1. Chapter 1

Deep in the heart of the bright, blazing city , buzzing with palpable warmth and vibrancy, was a restaurant. It was a tall, sleek, building, nestled snugly between a designer clothes

shop and a posh vintage store on Allion street. But beside the Baratie, all the stores were drab and lifeless, thriving purely on the clients that wafted in from next door, after a long,

pleasurable evening. With it's warm light, soothing jazz music that just oozed class, handsome waiters and beautiful waitresses - and best of all, its first class chefs, the Baratie was

a hub of excitement, etiquette, and decorum every evening, always seeming calm and effortless...

"**Where the hell is that seafood platter**?! The customer ordered it 20 minutes ago, and I'm not seeing anything being given to the damn waiter that even _resembles _food! Did I

waste my golden years teaching you brats how to cook, so you could chat your asses off to the clouds?! **NOW WHERE'S THE DAMN SEAFOOD PLATTER?"**

A chorus of groans, shouts, and curses erupted from the kitchen of cooks, all glaring at the stocky, blond chef barking orders with a knitted brow and red cheeks. He wore a tall white

chefs hat, and was brandishing a glimmering knife threateningly in his fist.

"Oi gramps, don't get your knickers in a twist ; Order 546 just went out." barked a tanned, oddly dressed cook with big lips. He wore a pink neckerchief around his neck, and gold

hoops in his ears.

"Shut your mouth, Patty, Zeff ain't in a good mood this evening...don't rile the old man up..." muttered another crossly, cutting a carrot nervously.

"**HA**!" shouted Patty, "That bastard ain't ever in a good mood!"

_**CLANG!**_

Patty felt the unmistakable sting of a frying pan hitting the back of his skull and he whirled around, lunging at the chef beside him again. All hell broke loose once again in the

Baratie's not-so-refined kitchen - while the customers dined, blissfully unaware.

As he bent down at he waist and kissed the pale, white hand outstretched to him, the man smiled sweetly up.

"Thank you very much for coming, my lady ~ you're presence lit up my evening like the beautiful jewel you are! Have a safe trip home!"

With a light, becoming smile, and another slight bow, Sanji saw his last customer into her car, and watched as it sped away up the avenue. As soon as the vehicle disappeared, he l

et out a deep breath, and headed back through the doors of the Baratie. Inside, he slumped down on the nearest table, lit a cigarette from his pocket, and surveyed the empty

restaurant. He was completely drained, and these long working hours, heightened ever since the restaurant had got insanely popular a few months back, were taking a toll on him.

He glanced at the ticking clock above the bar.

"_12.35..._"

He sighed and placed his head on the table, letting his eyes close. "Better make my way home I guess..."

When Zeff emerged from the kitchen to look for the teenager an hour later, he found the boy fast asleep at one of the tables, cigarette lying by his face on the cold, glossy surface.

"Stupid little eggplant..." the old man murmured fondly, as he silently took the seat opposite his adopted son. "Who told you to work yourself

to the bone like this?"

There was a soft silence.

"If I didn't, you and those other shitty bastards would be lost." Came a muffled, tired reply from deep within swathes of suit material.

Zeff started at first, then growled. He stood up, raised a thick, wooden leg, and brought it down _HARD _on Sanji's head.

"OW! You **BASTARD**, what was that for?!" yelled Sanji, still in a half asleep state, "I only just woke up, you shitty geezer!"

The old man scoffed.

"If you're awake enough to give me that shit about 'needing' you, you're awake enough to take the rap, "he barked, as Sanji picked himself up off the floor sleepily. "Now, listen to

me, you little brat - I came here to talk with you about something." He sat back down at his seat.

"Urgh..." grumbled Sanji groggily, taking his old seat as well. "What is it?"

Zeff cleared his throat.

"I'll be brief. So listen closely - I don't feel like repeating myself." He paused for a moment, then went on. " The restaurant's thriving - you've spent half of tonight as my sous-chef,

a quarter of it waiting on tables, and the rest flirting like the shitty eggplant you are with my female clients."

Sanji raised an eyebrow, ignoring Zeff's insult, and waited for him to continue.

"Uh..and?"

"And that's not good enough. Naive as you are, you're my sous-chef, not a waiter-come-entertainer. There are more clients ordering your special dishes than there are orders

coming into the rest of the kitchen. I want you at the stove 90% of the time. So - " Zeff paused dramatically, and lent forward. "You're gonna get your own, _personal _waiter."

Sanji's eyes widened.

"My...own...what-now?" He asked, his face creasing up in confusion. "Why? We already have enough waiters for-"

"Not when you insist on taking your dishes out yourself, idiot. You make a dish, take it out, entertain the guests for another half hour, and by the time your back in the kitchen you

have another five orders built up." Zeff growled, crossing his arms.

The blond looked away, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"I just...last time I let the waiter take it, he dropped the whole damn dish on the floor...they don't value the food I fucking slave over AT ALL!"

"Exactly. "Zeff said simply. "So, I'm getting you your own personal waiter, for you and your menu only."

Sanji was a little bit stunned. It was unlike his -adoptive- father to be so...openly generous. He looked at Zeff, arching his eyebrow slightly.

"Wait...what's the catch?"

Zeff's laughter boomed out through the empty room.

"Bwhahahahaa! You never change, shitty eggplant!" He coughed a few times, then started speaking again. "All you have to do is train the person I find for you. Make them an

employee that does it the way you want it, so you can focus on your cooking. I'll give you one week off."

"...to do what?"

"Weren't you listening!? To bloody train them, you idiot! Get them acquainted with everything, and don't let them fuck it up."

Sanji grimaced. _Training? That sounded more than tiresome..._

"Eh, I don't fancy spending my time training someone I didn't even choose..." he said petulantly, hoping Zeff would take the hint.

The old man just glared at him.

"Ungrateful bastard...either you take the one I get you, or use the regular waiters." he threatened. Then he grinned slightly. "Tell you

what - give me one criteria for 'em that you want, and I'll make sure it fits. Happy?"

Slowly, Sanji smiled. Then he started grinning brightly.

"You mean I'm gonna get my own personal waitress?!" He jumped up from his chair, eyes popping out of his head in the shape of pink, throbbing hearts. "Thanks,shitty geezer!"

"So? What's the fuckin' criteria, eggplant? Spit it out."

Sanji thought for a second, then smiled.

"As long as their GORGEOUS~ , they'll be perfect ~..." he sang, dancing around in a woman-induced haze.

He smiled again at the old man, whose face looked rather pleased; then he turned on his heel, and ran out of the restaurant, all tiredness long forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

Zoro looked out at the rain running down the glass. He let his eyes follow a single teardrop of rain meander down the surface, and merge with all the other blue droplets. He sighed.

_"What a damn miserable day..."_

He lay back on his bed, tired and feeling seriously blue. Life had very suddenly gone downhill for him in the last few weeks - a serious bike accident had left his bike totaled and his

body scarred; he had lost his job as an instructor at his gym, was kicked out of his apartment by a crabby landlord, and now spent all of his nights crashing on his friends' couches,

drowning himself in their booze. Zoro groaned as he thought about it, dragging a calloused hand down his face. He took another swig of his fourth beer bottle.

_"Urgh...I've been drinking too much for sure...shit."_

He was alone in the apartment, and it was too quiet. He was at Ace's flat for the week, until he'd decide he couldn't stay any longer, and move on to one of his other friends'

homes...

It was half nine at night, but Zoro had spent all day trawling the city for a job. ANY job. As long as it paid money in return for his services, he'd take it. Except nobody was offering.

Seemed to Zoro like no-one wanted a guy like him to work for them - he could sort of see why.

_"Of course I can't find a fucking job in a posh city like this...I'm only good at fighting and keeping fit, and that's it. End of story...ah - fuck. What now?"_

SOMEONE had to need an employee. Surely?!

He sighed again and rolled over onto his side in the bed, closing his eyes, letting sleep wash over him.

_"Tomorrow..."_ he thought.

He'd try again, one last time, tomorrow.

"**What**?! This is just ridiculous!"

"Sir, please just fill in the form. It's standard information."

Zoro glared daggers at the woman behind the desk in front of him. Her light skin was glossy and smooth, and she had golden hair tied back in a tight ponytail. On a sharp nose,

sat a pair of glasses. She lent her elbows on the desk, and leaned forward, twirling a pen in her hand.

"Is there really a problem?" she asked, in a rather threatening tone. Seeing Zoro's pained face, she sat back and smiled. "Then, sir, please take a seat over there while you

complete it, and place it in the box by the door on your way out. Have a good day."

And with that, the prim woman got up, smoothed down her clothes, and teetered off on her stilettos through the office.

"Bloody bitch!" Zoro snarled through clenched teeth. He clutched the form in his fist, and scrunched it into a ball angrily. "Damn employment agency...good-for-nothing bastards!"

It had been another bad day. Zoro had tried, as a last resort, an employment agency, in his pursuit for a temporary job. He'd been there for 5 hours, slowly going through form

after form, assistant after assistant...hell, he'd even filled in a form on his childhood hobbies!

"Shit! I only want a damn job!" Zoro cursed as he stormed through the shiny glass doors of the agency, absolutely fuming. And still no job.

Turning into a small alleyway nestled between the buildings on the street, Zoro shouted as loud as he could, and slammed his fist into the brick wall. Trying to relieve his stress l

evels like this, which were seriously sky rocketing, he failed to notice the man watching him from the shadows silently.

He kicked, he punched, he lashed out - until he felt the beads of sweat mingling with the blood on his fists. Zoro took a step back, and tried to breathe in deeply. All of a sudden,

he tensed, feeling the presence of someone standing close by him. Without turning, Zoro gritted his teeth.

"Who are you?" His voice was hoarse from his shouting moments before, but there was a distinctly dangerous lilt to his tone.

There was a short silence, and then Zoro heard a deep, brass-like chuckle.

"You seem like you're in trouble, boy."

Zoro turned. Out of the shadows, came a big, burly man, dressed in a chef's suit, and a tall, erect hat on his head. Zoro raised his eyebrows.

_"What a weird looking dude..." he thought._

"And? What's it to you, old man? I don't know you."

Another chuckle.

"No, you don't...but that's your loss - that is, if you need money."

Zoro had all his senses working at an alarming pace - the adrenaline still surging through his veins after his outburst, he was ready for a fight if the old man wanted one.

Yet Zoro didn't think that that was what he was after.

"I need money, yeah, but I'm not prepared to get it by dragging the little pride I have left though the mud. Whatever you think I'll be interested in, you're wrong."

"Young men are such idiots. I know one just like you and a damn bloody nuisance he is too. And yet..." Zeff smiled slightly at the green haired man, still looking at him, ready to

attack. " I just can't help but pick these bastards up."

Zoro was silent. He was interested in what the man was saying now - he'd been offered money for the first time since he lost his job, and the man didn't seem ready to attack him.

"No..." thought Zoro." This guy ain't a troublemaker - I can tell."

Relaxing ever so slightly, he straightened up and and looked the man in the eyes.

"So..."he began. "What's the deal, shitty geezer?"

"I'm looking for staff for my restaurant. I need someone good-looking, unusual, strong...and it helps if they're a fucked up kid like you too!...oh yeah - and

they need to be, and I quote, '_gorgeous_'."

Zoro scowled and folded his arms.

_...a restaurant_?

He wasn't convinced.

"Oh yeah? You think 'fucked-up kids' like me are '_gorgeous_', eh bastard?!"

Zeff burst out laughing.

"**BWAHAHAHAHA**! Haha, you're ideal, boy!" He wiped the tears from his eyes, and grinned at Zoro. "You need a job, right?"

Zoro nodded.

"Well, then." He turned, and started to head out of the alley." You're hired."


	3. Chapter 3

Sanji hummed to himself happily as he readjusted the cuff links on his sleeves, and surveyed his reflection in the bathroom mirror for the hundredth time that morning. Looking back at him, a confident, suave young man oozed self-assurance and swagger. He looked at his own reflection for a moment.

"Hmmmmm..."

He was wearing his usual suit - a dark black jacket, trousers, and shiny new shoes. His shirt was white, but the collar and cuffs were a slightly shiny black, along with his tie - which had a faint, glittering blue emblem of a swirl sewed on at the base - it was a personalized gift from a very close friend.

"Maybe I should wear something with a little more..."

He shook his head, and stopped before his thoughts progressed any further; he turned, winked once at the mirror, and swaggered effortlessly out of the room - still humming peacefully to himself under his breath.  
This was Sanji A. Blue, - the youngest, suavest, (and he liked to think, handsomest) sous-chef in the entire city. As he shut the door of his lavish apartment and slipped the key into his pocket, he set out at a brisk pace for his restaurant.

Zoro glowered angrily at the clock and growled. His patience was wearing seriously thin - and had been for the last four hours. Sitting in a small, rather claustrophobic room, where Zoro had been very unceremoniously dumped by the weird-mustached chef.

_FLASHBACK_

"What the hell's this?"  
They were standing on Allion street - that for starters screamed volumes to Zoro when he thought in terms of class and opulence. Zoro was standing behind Zeff, his arms folded, and a dubious scowl on his face. Zeff turned and gave him a look.

"It's my restaurant, kid. What, you never seen one before?"

Zoro's glare deepened at that, but then reality sank in and he backed away slightly from the doors.

"Eh? You didn't fucking say it was some swanky, million dollar joint! I can't work here!" Zoro's face was aghast as he pointed an incriminating finger at the luxurious restaurant. It wasn't that Zoro doubted himself _at all_- he just didn't trust that fat cook further than he could throw him. He had assumed that the guy was going to be the owner of some run-down, greasy fast food store - hence why he was just picking random adolescents up off the streets with some half-assed offer of a job.  
No, Zoro didn't expect this. _The Baratie, _with its elegant sapphire curtains, its golden lamps, bathing a pearly cream archway in a soft, golden hue and the sounds of a sweet, mellifluous song drifting out through a slightly open window.  
Zeff turned back to look at the building, like it was the first time he'd ever really seen it.

"Hm? I guess its got some class...but a restaurant's soul is only its cooking." he looked sternly at Zoro. "Appearances mean jack-shit."

Zoro scoffed at that, and returned to stand by the man's side, still slightly dazed by the restaurant. He took a surreptitious peep through the window.  
There was a large, spacious room, full of tables and chairs, all covered in royal blue cloths. It was absolutely packed - there were men in suits  
everywhere, all escorting ladies dressed in clinging, velvet dresses and pearls. White napkins sat on the laps of the ladies, while glasses of red and white wine adorned the hands of the waiters as they brought plate after plate of food from somewhere Zoro couldn't see. As if all this wasn't staggering enough, at the far end of the room, slightly set back from the dining area, was a little stage. On it was a grand, black piano, it's ivory keys catching the golden light that softly filled the restaurant with a warm, welcoming ambiance Zoro only just had enough time to take in the thin, suited man wearing a tall black top hat and an afro, sitting at the instrument, and the rest of the band behind him playing trumpets, cellos, and violins, before he felt a sharp tug on his shoulder, and felt himself being dragged down towards the side of the building, and being yanked into an alleyway he hadn't even realized was there.  
Zeff was looking at him, glaring.

"Stop ogling my customers, brat. I get enough trouble with that from the eggplant."

Zoro rolled his eyes.

"Keep your hat on, jeez. I was just looking - I never ogle. _Ever_. Got it?"

Zeff grinned.

"You're a bad liar, kid. Now get your ass in here."

Zeff opened a door in the side of the restaurant; Zoro could barely see his own hands in the darknesss of the alley, let alone the entrance he was supposed to be going through.  
He frowned at Zeff, who was just shutting the door they'd (or rather, Zoro) had stumbled through. He heard a switch click, and suddenly everything was bathed in light.  
Zoro blinked a few times, and held his hand up to protect his eyes from the sudden glare. Once his vision adjusted, he saw that he was standing in a little white corridor, with only one heavy door staring back at him from the other end, and another door on the adjacent wall. He let Zeff push past him gruffly, muttering something under his breath.  
It all seemed so odd - and yet, Zoro wasn't afraid. Hell, Zoro was never afraid, but he didn't even feel the need to be careful. He just found everything so fucking odd. Then, as he watched Zeff heading towards the wooden door, he sighed, decided to just go with it, and followed.

It had turned out that that heavy wooden door had been heavy and wooden for a very good reason. Behind it was a kitchen full of the biggest, most violent, creepiest, and blasphemous chefs he had ever met. On entering, a sharp, gleaming knife had whizzed past his head, mere centimeters from his nose, and impaled the wall beside him. He swallowed, eyes widening when Zeff just ignored it. Hell, he was sure the bloody guy just smirked at him.  
Zeff turned to the kitchen full of men, and slammed a heavy fist down on an unused worktop.

"OI BASTARDS! DROP YOUR WORK AND LISTEN!"

"Oi, oi, old man, it's the dinner rush - can't it wait?!"

"Uh, yeah we're kinda busy here, old geezer! You know, got a whole bloody restaurant to feed?"

Zoro nearly missed the spine crushing kicks that shot towards the two cooks, who went flying across the room, hitting the walls simultaneously with a crack and a groan. Zeff's kick had been quick, silent, and totally unavoidable.

"_Creepy..._" Zoro thought, wrinkling up his nose in something akin to disbelief. Except with every passing moment, he truly believed he'd seen everything. The mustached chef cleared his throat, and at once the shocked kitchen fell into a serious, attentive silence.

"Good." Zeff smiled thinly. He stepped aside, and briefly shot Zoro a glace. "This kid's Sanji's new waiter. Sanji's PERSONAL new waiter. As in, make him take out any of your food, and the eggplant and I will kick you to hell and back. I'm paying him so that that overworked brat isn't dead by 25 - meaning, if you try and take advantage of a this new guy, you're dead. Are we clear?"

There was a momentary silence, a few groans, and then a general nodding of heads.

"Ha, hey old man." The voice was laced with badly-disguised mirth. "So this is Sanji's new _waitress_, huh?"

There were a few muffled giggles, and Zoro glared. He felt his face beginning to burn with anger.

"Are you blind, bastard?" he growled. "I'm a fucking guy. Call me a waitress again, and it won't make a difference whether you're blind or not - I'll kill you either way."

The man guffawed loudly, and Zoro subconsiously relaxed when he heard it - it seemed so natural, in all its coarseness.

"Hey, hey man, calm down. I know you're a not a waitress - but Sanji sure as hell doesn't!" The whole kitchen burst into uproarious laughter at that. Zoro still didn't get it. He decided he didn't need to, and just shrugged. He had assumed before that he was going to be some kind of pack-mule, delivery boy et cetera, et cetera...so he had no idea what to expect from this place. So far it looked like he was expected to be a waiter. Fuck.  
Zeff was pushing his shoulder from behind, ushering him towards the cooks. He glared.

"Meet them. Now. Every single one." It was an order (and a look) that even Zoro wasn't going to argue with, and he slowly headed over to the first men he saw.

After making his way around the entire kitchen, Zoro sighed tiredly.  
There were two men, chatting side by side near the door, whom he still hadn't met - and thank god, they were the last. One was the guy he'd spoken to earlier, he noted. They turned to look at him as he approached, and grinned.

"Yo. The name's Patty."

"And Carne."

Two greasy paws were held out towards him. Zoro looked at them both for a second, then smiled thinly.

"Zoro".

"You met the sous-chef yet?"

Zoro frowned, then shook his head.

"I dunno - nobody told me they were."

"Ah, then that would be no. He's not here now anyway I don't think, he went out on business for Zeff hours ago. He'll be back soon though, don't worry."

Zoro frowned.

"Am I suposed to care about this sous-chef, or is he just a hot topic with you people?"

Patty laughed again.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! You don't even know do you!? I bet the old man hasn't told you about your job properly yet..." he stifled a snigger, and Carne smirked along with him. "Ah, well, let's just say that I don't think that you're what Sanji (that's the sous-chef) had in mind..."

Zoro sighed again and shrugged - he really couldn't care less, frankly. He just wanted a job, and money.  
Zeff was waiting for him by the door, and he walked through it without another word. After fiddling with some keys, Zeff unlocked the door adjacent to the kitchen and opened it to reveal a rather small, yet comfy room with three seats, a couch and a table. There were no windows, and a little clock ticked loudly on the wall. Zeff motioned him inside and grunted.

"Wait here. That brat oughta be here before we close, so just wait. You're no good until he gets here anyway, and I'll send him in to see you when he does. Besides," he paused, then smiled evilly, " from now on, you're his responsibility."

He shut the door abruptly, and Zoro plopped down tiredly on the couch to wait.

_END OF FLASHBACK_

And wait.

"**WHERE THE HELL IS THAT BASTARD?!**" Zoro yelled furiously.

All of a sudden, Zoro heard someone in the corridor.

A knock came at the door; the handle turned, and the door was swung open wide.


	4. Chapter 4

Before doing anything rash, Sanji took a deep breath - and assessed his situation.  
It was late, yes. He'd just come in after running all of Zeff's errands for him, had had enough time to go home, get changed, and head back to The Baratie to prepare the menu for tomorrow. It was then that a small, handwritten note on the kitchen counter had caught his eye.

_"Your protégé is in the coffee room. I don't expect to see your ass in my kitchen for a whole week, got it? Now scram, kid. _

_- Zeff_

_p.s Green is gorgeous enough for you, right?_

Admittedly, the last sentence had puzzled Sanji slightly - what kind of a two-faced question was that, anyway? Not to mention the fact that it was 2:15am...why the hell was his 'protégé' here now? And ALONE?! Yes, this had raised a very curly eyebrow...for a total of about seven seconds.  
The sous-chef was instantly overcome by his own mental image of a young, ravishing, red-haired beauty, dressed in a skimpy waitress' dress, with a thin, white apron tied around a slim waist...  
In two seconds flat, Sanji was standing outside the door of the Baratie's small coffee room, carefully adjusting his tie, his cuffs, and smoothing out his hair. He took a deep breath, and made no attempt to calm the excitement in his stomach.

_"Right Sanji...play it cool - be suave, charming..."_

Just then, he heard a noise - was that a voice? - from within; he stood up straight, squared his shoulders - and knocked.  
Unfortunately, Sanji couldn't stop himself when he opened the door. With his vision completely blurred by fantasy, and his self-proclaimed promise of coolness now utterly null-and-void, he twirled into the room in a hurricane of hearts and flailing limbs. His lust-fuelled brain sent him spinning over to the tall person standing in the middle of the room, hands by their sides. All Sanji saw was an alluring vision of delicious, tanned skin, sparkling golden earrings, dazzling emerald eyes, and flash of -green?!- hair... no more and no less. Sanji was in heaven. He knelt down on one knee at the person's feet, his eyes still flooded images of long legs and large chests, and softly - yet swiftly- seized a tanned hand...

"Mellorine~! I heard that my gorgeous lady was awaiting me here! Please, my dove, give me the privilege of one heavenly, chaste kiss to your han-"

**"THE FUCK?! GET OFF ME YOU PERVERT!"**

A strong, harsh blow to the side of Sanji's lowered head sent him flying through the air. He landed hard on his back onto the low coffee table, smashing the wooden legs shattered with the impact.  
The chef sat for a second - completely shocked, confused, and dizzy - lost in a mass of his own tangled limbs and wood.  
When he looked up, that figure was still there - he still saw the delicious, tanned skin, sparkling golden earrings, dazzling emerald eyes...except this time he saw who they belonged to. A man.

_Oh. Shit._

Sanji just sat there. He looked at the green-haired man towering above him - he took in the red face and the tired eyes, the fisted hands and heavy breathing...and the words.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, you moron?" It was a low, threatening growl, and it snapped Sanji back to reality. His eyes focused - he leapt up from the floor, and in a flash, he was right up in the seething man's face.

"What the hell did you just call me?" The anger began to replace his confusion...but then it crumbled, and a frown settled on his forehead "Who the hell are you anyway? You shouldn't even be in here."

Zoro shot the man a death glare - partly due to his embarrassment, partly due to his own confusion, and also due to odd change in the blonde's emotions.

"Are you Sanji?"

"W-hat...?"

"Are. You. The. Fucking. Sous-chef?" Zoro was in no mood for this dumb blonde's idiocy, nor the time it was taking him to process the question. He grabbed the man's jacket, and gave him a slight shake. A shimmering blue eye widened.

"Uh, yeah...oi, bastard, get your filthy hands off my suit! God, to think that people can be so ill-mannered..."

"**WHAT**?! How the hell can you say that when you just- when you just did that- did that- _THING_?!" Zoro spluttered furiously, reaching over to grab the blonde again, who was now patting down his pockets indifferently, as if he was searching for something. Sanji hopped back nimbly out of the man's clutches, and glared.

"Look. I don't know who you are, why you're here, or how you even know who I am." He paused to take a cigarette box and lighter from his pocket. "When I came in here, I thought you were someone else. Sorry 'bout that."

He flashed a cocky grin at the deadpan look on Zoro's face, and placed the cigarette between his lips, the picture of calm. Inside however, he was dying.

How could he have just made such a humongous fool out of himself? It was bad enough when it happened in front of a lady, but at least they were (more often than not) flattered...however, he had just nearly molested this guy, and it was seriously killing him. He ignored the fact that it was worse because Zoro was hot. He fought the blush trying to appear on his pale cheeks, but it still came through - a light dusting of pink on cream.

_"Damn..."_ he thought, spreading a cocky grin across his lips to try and disguise it.

Zoro wasn't in the least bit fooled.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

Before Sanji could utter a rebuttal, he spoke again.

"I'm supposed to be here. I've been in this fucking room for the last four hours, waiting for 'the sous-chef'. I've just been hired..."

Zoro paused, waiting for some sign of acknowledgment on the blonde's pretty features. Nothing - just a blank stare as smoke wafted out between slightly parted lips. He continued.

"...the guy with the monster hat said I was supposed to be a waiter here. If you're Sanji, then apparently I'm your responsibility."4

Zoro huffed when he still go no response.

"Is there a problem?" Zoro finally asked, after a short period of silence.

Sanji was standing there, burnt out cigarette hanging from his lips, looking at Zoro with the color rising in his cheeks.  
All of a sudden, the stick fell from his lips.

"THAT SHITTY, FUCKING BASTARD-CHEF! WHAT THE HELL IS HE PLAYING AT!? I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL KILL HIM!"

He started to frantically pace up, down and around the tiny room (and Zoro), his features contorted into a look of pure hatred.

Then he pointed an incriminating finger at Zoro, who was watching the blonde warily.  
He'd taken in all the crucial details about the slim man - the short temper, fast mood swings, the ability to take body impact easily...and those legs which were to die for. Okay so that wasn't crucial, but hey - Zoro thought it was pretty worth noting.

"And **YOU**! You...you are NOT meant to be here! The last thing I need is a big, green haired idiot like you lumbering about my kitchen, hitting people whenever he feels like it!" He didn't stop to pause for breath."And why the hell did you hit me, fucker? You think you can just attack people when the mood takes you?"

Sanji was right up in Zoro's personal space now - the green haired man could smell the nicotine on his breath. Subconsciously, he breathed the scent in deeply.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking - there was random pervert slobbering all over my hand." The comment was dripping with sarcasm, and Zoro smirked when he saw a vein pop in the blonde's head.

Without thinking about it for a second, Sanji hurled himself at the other man, hell bent on kicking his ass to the moon and back.

And tomorrow, Zeff was dead.


	5. Chapter 5

Sanji loosened the tie around his neck, and swallowed hard. The walls of the little room around him seemed to be closing in fast; the light above him was sharp and hurt his eyes; the room was stuffy and humid, his own nervous perspiration adding to the thick , hot air encased between the white walls...  
A sharp cough from in front of him drew his thoughts away from the rising panic, and he slowly lifted his head to meet the dark eyes of a police officer, sitting, arms folded, across the desk from him.

"I'll give you five minutes to explain what the hell you thought you were doing."

He tried to speak, but Sanji's voice stuck in his throat; he was fighting a horrible mix of emotions.  
There was humiliation - the famous Sanji , lover of all ladies, master of every culinary dish - arrested by the local police.  
Then there was rage - that uncontrollable, inconsolable rage - that he knew would soon be unable to hold back . He had to sort out this horrible mess.

He took a shaky breath, and locked eyes with the man watching him, waiting.

"Officer, please listen to me! I'm not a thug - I normally would never be involved in something so dishonorable as this...but the situation called for nothing less! There was nothing else I could think to do!"

He tried to drop the pleading tone that was creeping into his voice - he knew that, for some reason, the green-haired idiot had driven him insane. The man had taunted, teased, punched, dodged, and done all manner of things to madden the chef. And he'd been damn good at it too.

_Until now, nobody but Zeff had been able to match Sanji in a full-on sparring session like this - and the sous-chef was seriously doing his best to kick this idiot's ass...and yet he couldn't land even a single crippling kick on him._  
_He'd sent long, black legs heading straight for Zoro's solar-plexus and been blocked with a shockingly powerful arm; another passion-fueled kick, soaring towards the green head, had earned him a sharp stab to his ribs and another deflected shoe._

_"GODDAMMIT!" Sanji bellowed into the other man's face - he lifted his leg, and let all his pent-up anger shoot towards Zoro in one strong shot towards his chest...but when the killer kick was halted in a strong, muscular grip, he stilled. He was out of breath from exertion and anger, while Zoro had done nothing but defend himself the whole time, watching him like a hawk with a sly smirk on his lips, and an unreadable look in his eyes, while Sanji had been letting all his fury loose on him._

_At some point during their fight, they had tussled themselves out of the building, and were now standing in the alleyway outside, caught in a tense stand-off._

_Zoro just held Sanji's leg where it had landed, the sole of the shoe sightly resting on his chest, all power having left it. His grip tightened on the strong limb, and he grinned. Sanji shot him a glare of hatred, despising the man for how calm he had remained throughout._

_Calm, quiet... completely silent, but for a smirk which was almost shoving itself down his throat in all its smugness..._

_"Like he was thinking something amusing the entire time...that bastard."_

_In reality, Zoro had been thinking - in a sense anyway. He'd been watching the blond - drowning in the heat of that blue gaze, the strength in those legs, the tension in the slim shoulders - and enjoying himself immensely. He had never let his eyes drift from that mesmerizing blue orb even once, as it glinted with unchecked anger, passion and annoyance...Zoro just had to grin._

_Oh, yes...he'd found something much better than a job. He'd found someone to play with._

_Without a word, Zoro surged towards the breathless cook, and tackled him onto the main street._

_"Ah! You shitty- get offa me!"_

_"What? You didn't tire yourself out did you, ero-cook?"_

_"Like hell!"_

_Sanji tried to match the weight bearing down on him with a sharp knee to the chest of the man above him, who was quickly trying to immobilize him by straddling those legs to his sides._

_But the chef had already used up a lot of his strength, and he was now running on half-power - his leg held barely any more fight, and Zoro easily pushed it back against the cook's own chest. There was that damn grin again._

_It was then that a police car had swerved around the corner, its siren wailing like a banshee, catching the two men in its bright, blinding headlamps. _

_Catching them battered, disheveled bruised...and straddling each other in, what would seem in any other circumstances, as a very, very intimate position._

"So, you see officer, we certainly were NOT involved in anything like what the witnesses seemed to be suggesting. I understand how it looked, but I swear to god I would never... shit, I'd only just fucking met the guy for gods' sake!"**  
**

"I suggest you watch your language, Mr Blue...I don't approve of blasphemy." The officer sneered, but when he saw the crestfallen look on Sanji's face, he sighed. "Look, kid. I'll see what I can do. That witness was pretty disgusted; even if it was just a punch-up, getting some of these old birds to shut up can be tricky."

Sanji's eyes widened at the change in character of the cop. One minute he was admonishing the chef's use of colorful language, the next he was saying that the witness was one of 'these old birds' - and that he had probably been as sick of her crowing as Sanji. And it took some seriously powerful crowing to get Sanji to hate a lady. If you could call her that.

Sanji grimaced, and nodded his head at the police officer in silent thanks. All of a sudden, the little bell on the door gave a jingle, and in the open doorway was standing another, younger man.

In fact, he seemed more like a little kid than a man - there were large, round glasses on his chubby face; a head of pink - _is that __pink?!- _hair, and was several feet shorter than the green, decorative plant inside the office. He looked up at the two men, and Sanji saw the sweat form quickly on his brow.

"S-sir! I've taken a statement from the witness as you ordered me to, sir!"

The cop looked up, and nodded. Still sitting, he hed out his hand imperiously for the notepad sitting in the boy's sweaty palm.

"Good job, Coby." He nodded again to the boy, and Sanji raised his eyebrows at the still shaky-looking kid. "Give it here. I wanna wrap up this so called case. It's nothing but a waste of my fucking time."

The little boy handed over the sheets, bowed deeply, and then scurried away.

Sanji turned to look at the policeman, and smirked slightly.

"I thought you didn't like blasphemy?"

The other man shot Sanji a warning glare.

"I don't. Especially when it's coming from some kid whose got nothing better to do than hump another guy in front of an old bird."

The cook choked on his own saliva at that, and started spluttering. Before he could act on the urge to kill the cop, he thought better of it, and just sat back in the chair, a glare settled on his brow.

He watched the officer flip calmly through the notes, perusing the scribbled text leisurely. Every now and then, he had 'ummd' and 'ahhhhd' over some particular sentence, and then started chuckling over others. When he started to glance up at Sanji every now and then, and snigger, the chef couldn't take it any longer.

"If that bloody idiot has said something moronic, I swear to god I'll -"

"You're free to go.

Sanji just looked at the man for a second, and then a grin spread itself on his face.

"Seriously? Just like that?"

The cop nodded, and the moustache on his lips twitched.

"Yep. Turns out another witness saw it all - the old guy said it was all a big mistake. The charges pressed are null-and-void, kid. Get outta here."

Sanji frowned as he stood.

"Another witness? What was his name? Is he here?"

The officer came up behind him and ushered him out of his office.

"Uh, yeah I think so. I believe he's at the front desk with your green-haired guy. His name's - " he paused to look down at the notepad. " ... Zeff Blue. Oh, hey, that's your old man, right'?"

The cop gave a loud laugh.

"Well, I guess you'd better go thank him. If he hadn't come along, who knows what would've happened to you two, eh?"

Sanji turned away from the officer in one swift motion, and powered down the corridor with long, purposeful strides.

"_Oh, don't you worry. I'll thank the shitty bastard alright. I'll thank him, and that green headed perver__t, good and proper..."_


	6. Chapter 6

Zoro sat, saying absolutely nothing. He had sensed the palpable anger radiating from the ero-cook as soon as he had strode up to him and the old man at the police station. Zoro had been standing with his arms crossed near the door, waiting eagerly (secretly of course...) for the love-cook's return; he couldn't wait to start what was set to be a very interesting part of his not-so-good life, and Sanji looked set to pay an integral part in it.

Zeff, meanwhile, had been leaning on the front desk, twirling his mustache, a hard frown creasing an already wrinkled brow.

And then, Zoro had spotted that head of brilliant golden hair, and a very angrily curled eyebrow, heading down the corridor towards them.

"Oi. The idiot's here at last." Zoro pushed himself off the wall, and alerted the big chef of the approaching fireball.

Zeff turned. As soon as he caught sight of Sanji, he matched the boy's expression with a piercing glare. Sanji's fists were clenched, and his face was slightly red - there was a dangerous;y dark aura radiating off the naturally porcelain skin.

"_You, _shitty old-man, have some serious balls to pull this kind of trick. _Look at the shit you've gotten me into, you-you..."_

Zeff grabbed a fistful of Sanji's, already slightly ruffled, suit, and pulled the irate teenager right up to his face. Sanji was tall, but he had to rise on his tiptoes so as not to be lifted right off the floor. Zeff's face was dark, yet his voice betrayed no emotion. Except something which promised a beating.

"Listen, _idiot. _Can you remember what I told your thick head before?"

Sanji didn't answer - not that he was nervous or anything ( Sanji? Hell no!), but he didn't like the feeling Zeff was giving off. He just stood there, and waited for the old man to continue, his anger having been replaced by something...quieter.

Zeff grunted at the silence.

"Of course not - I don't know what else I expected from you. Well, I'll tell you agai-"

All of a sudden, there was a very exaggerated cough from somewhere, and the three men realized that they still hadn't left the station, and were about to make a yet another scene in the worst possible place. Zeff looked around sulkily, and let go of Sanji's jacket with a shove. Sanji glared daggers at the old man, smoothing out his jacket carefully. Zeff brought his face up close to Sanji's nose again.

"Outside. Now." He spat, before turning to a rather bemused Zoro, who had been standing, watching the cook getting intimidated by this old chef. It wasn't that Zoro thought it was _funny _as such...besides, it was only amusing when it was him getting the cook all fussed up. Nevertheless, he certainly hadn't bothered to hide the satisfied smirk reclining on his lips.

"And _you. _Wipe that fucking grin off your mouth; you're in deep shit too. Now - out."

And with that, Zeff turned on his heel, and stormed out through the glass doors, leaving the two teens to follow - both a little nervous, but neither one willing to show it.

~/~/~/~/~/~

Pause.

"Well...that was a bit brutal."

Zoro's voice still sounded a little strained, and Sanji's non-committal grunt in reply was proof that the cook was still very, _very _pissed with him.

_"Damn..." _Zoro thought. The silence was boring. The room was stifling. And right now, the company sucked.

Zoro was sitting in that same small room back at the _Baratie, _with a very irate Sanji.

Zeff had made it quite clear, once they had got back into the privacy of four closed walls, that neither of them were going to be getting off lightly.

As a result of a tirade of abuse from the old geezer , Zoro was now sporting some impressive bruises to his stomach and to the sides of his head. And he had a rather crushed ego too boot. _  
_

But.

And for Zoro, as he watched the cook smoking across from him out of the corner of his eye, it was a very big but.

Zeff hadn't sent him away. He still had this opportunity, and no matter how fun it was to rile this blonde-haired pervert up, he wasn't prepared to throw away this chance to rebuild his life.

So, one thing had been made clear: Zeff was angry, yes, but more than that - he was obstinate as hell.

Sanji had _obviously _had issues when he'd found out that Zoro wasn't a girl, hence the shouting match which had ensued between the two blondes as soon as the threesome were back in the Baratie.

_"You shitty old geezer! This whole thing is all your fucking fault! Look at what you're little joke here has achieved - I can't fucking believe you got me in this mess...AND WHERE THE HELL IS MY WAITRESS ANYHOW!?"_

_"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut that fucking trap of yours! You're just a spoiled brat with a stick up your ass, who can't take a 'no' even once in his life!"_

_"What?! You're the one who started this whole shitty personal fucking waiter thing in the beginning! Don't go blaming me if you can't uphold your side of the bargain! You're just an old geezer who can't take the responsibility of not being able to fulfill your promises!"_

_"Oh? And what exactly did I promise? I don't think I've digressed from our agreement." Zeff growled._

_Zoro just watched._

_"Don't give me that shit!" Sanji spat. "Do you see slim hips and smooth curves on this asshole?!"_

_Zeff cackled suddenly then._

_"No... I see an uncultured, ungrateful bastard who doesn't know how to appreciate a break." Zeff had turned towards Zoro now, and walked up to him threateningly. "Listen to me, punk. I'll bet you've been told all your life that you're fucking worthless. That you have no job, no money, no friends, and probably no fucking brains to boot. You're a dead man. Yet you're willing to throw away this chance because you're too arrogant and ungrateful to just not fuck it up." Zeff paused for breath, and lowered his voice so he was no longer near to shouting. "Let's get this straight, kid. You are nothing to me. You're here because of that fucker over there. I don't need you, and I don't want you. But I'm not letting you go, either. Get this in your head, now. Mess with me, and I'll kill you. Hurt my boy, and I'll kill you again. Fuck this up..." Zeff stopped, but just made a swift slicing motion with his hand against Zoro's throat._

_Zoro nodded. He knew that that was all he was expected to do, and he held Zeff's steady gaze in, what he hoped, was a silent promise. Then Zeff turned, and without a word, strode over to the door. Sanji let his jaw drop. _

_"**Oi**! Get back here you shitty geezer! We're not done yet! You still haven't answered m-"_

_"Just remember, Sanji - it's him or nothing. If you respect me at all, you'll shut the fuck up, and face it like a man."_

_And with that, the door swung softly shut, and the two men were left awkwardly in the room; one silent and composed, the other, silent and shocked._

So now, Sanji was thinking - he wasn't concerned with the green-headed idiot for the moment. Zeff's words were swirling around inside his head, and he sat on the couch, smoking in silence, contemplating.

_If you respect me at all, you'll shut the fuck up, and face it like a man._

_Respect. _

That one word was niggling away at the cook. Zeff could have said anything else, and by now Sanji would have already thrown Zoro out, ignored Zeff completely, and carried on with life as normal.

But. Sanji respected Zeff more than anyone in his life. He had been his father, his mother, his brother, his best-friend...he had been the little boy Sanji's world. In fact, he was still everything to him. Sanji only had the Baratie, its chefs, and Zeff - no other friends, no other family...

So, now that that one word, _respect,_ had entered the equation, Sanji couldn't argue. Hell, he didn't even want to.

Suddenly, he looked up at Zoro, who was watching him. But this time, he didn't see the same moss-headed, uncultured, rude, sarcastic bastard he'd seen before.

Now, he just saw his own personal waiter.

Ready and waiting.

**A/N**:

**Just a quick note - firstly, thank you so much to everyone who is, and has, reviewed! It just makes me sooooo happy, and because of you guys, I'm enjoying writing this story so much! But - it's the Easter holidays coming up, and so my next update may take a little longer - BUT I WILL UPDATE! And it won't be tooooooo long, just not, y'know' super regular... family 'n' stuff...**

**So anyways~ thank you again, and I'm sorry there may be a little delay...but please wait for me :) XD**

**Ja ne~**


	7. Chapter 7

"Okay. Now, turn left."

"Right."

"No, I said _left_..."

"I am left."

"...this is right."

"Good - so what's the problem?"

"..."

Sanji was ready to kill someone. And not just anyone either- he was this close to strangling that green-headed, direction-deprived moron..._this. close. _But he couldn't - he wouldn't - let it get to him.

He cringed as there was terrifying smash of plates from somewhere within the kitchen.

And then another.

Okay, so maybe he'd let it get to him a little.

He turned around slowly, and leveled a glare at Zoro, who had emerged from the kitchen and was now standing a few feet away from him, with three more smashed plates lying in fragments on the restaurant's smooth, sleek floor.

Sanji's lips creased into a snarl, and he crossed the gap between the two of them. He moved swiftly - his strides held purpose and intent in every step. Suddenly he stopped, just inches from Zoro's nose. His teeth ground down on his cigarette angrily; Zoro's expression revealed nothing but arrogant lassitude, and in that moment, Sanji nearly lost a hold on his self-control.

Nearly.

Instead, he let a deep, threatening growl sidle out from between his lips.

"You are _so _lucky those weren't our china plates..."

Zoro grinned.

"Good thing I broke them too - those plates were ugly as hell."

Something snapped then in Sanji's brain. Whether it was his self-control, his reason, or his maturity - something just _went._

"**T-THAT'S IT! I'M GONNA KILL YOU, Y-YOU IDIOTIC, MOSS-HAIRED, UGLY, TANNED-FUCKING-SKINNED BARBARIAN! AND THEN I'M GONNA INTERRUPT YOUR BLOODY FUNERAL SO I CAN KILL YOU ALL OVER AGAIN!" **

Zoro's eyes flashed as he readied himself for the blonde-haired cook. He smirked.

God this guy was so much fun.

S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/ S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/ Z/S/Z/S/Z/S

As Sanji looked wearily at the clock on the wall, he sighed. It was nearly one in the morning. His whole body ached; he was stiff, tired, and felt completely stale.

He'd spent the whole day in the Baratie with Zoro; just practicing endlessly, one thing after another. And it was completely driving him up the wall.

Twelve hours ago, he had been spurred on by the thought of '_respect' _and all that shit...now, after being in Zoro's endless company for so long, in such _frustrating conditions, _he was all done.

Sanji breathed out a heavy sigh and slumped down onto one of the Baratie's chairs. Zoro, on the other hand, was not quite so easily repressed. The green-haired pulled out a seat opposite the cook, and watched as he carefully lit another cigarette. Pink lips pulled in a lungful of smoke, and slowly exhaled it.

Zoro thought for a moment. He knew the Sanji must have been feeling pretty saturated; the cook's posture had slumped, his eyes were slightly tired, his sharp, biting comments had slowly sunk into sarcastic, half-assed insults, and his attacks had become slower and heavier.

All thanks to him.

Zoro's heart swelled with pride; it was obvious that he was capable of provoking such a rise out of the chef that it as unreal.

Unreal, fun, exciting...Zoro felt his heart surge again.

Zoro lent an arm on the table, and rested his cheek in his hand.

"Oi. How come we've been allowed in here all day? There's been no-one around since that old-geezer left us at around 10am."

Sanji's head snapped back to Zoro, as he pulled his mind away from the other world he's been lost in.

"Hm? Oh right, it's Sunday. Baratie's shut on Sunday. It's usually the day I take a look at al our finances, and make sure we're..."

Sanji's eyes widened, and he paled slightly as he looked at Zoro, grief written all over his face.

Zoro raised his eyebrows.

"W-what's the matter?"

Sanji stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, and let his head fall onto the table with a loud thud and a groan.

"Uhhhhhh...the damn inventory...fucking finances...I was supposed to have done them earlier today..."

Zoro just looked at Sani - just looked at that head of golden hair splayed out on the table in front of him. It seemed really to glitter there in the soft light of the Baratie, almost as much as the cook's blue eyes shimmered when they'd fought earlier...

All of a sudden, Zoro had a terrible, violent urge to touch. He wanted to run his fingers through those sleek strands, he wanted to caress the soft, silken threads...

He gave his head a vicious shake.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Sure, he admitted he was getting increasingly infatuated with sparring with a cook he'd met less than 24 hours ago...yes, he did seem to have procured an unhealthy obsession with those long, sleek legs, and that _ridiculous _flexibility...but that was all to help him assess his opponent.

Right?

He loved winding Sanji up - it was a great stress reliever, and it meant he could go all out; he could throw all his strength at the guy, and this blond-haired fantasy would reciprocate immediately.

Wait - _fantasy?! What the fuck is up with these thoughts?!_

Zoro sighed. He felt, for the first time in weeks, content. With the cook, there were no feelings of being inferior or of being a burden; there were no pitiful glances with offerings of a place to crash, no sympathetic smiles and assurances of "everything getting better soon" - no, this Sanji was just rampant mood swings - fits of passion and anger, traversing quickly into spells of patience and persistence- a quick, barbed tongue ready to sting anything that challenged him, and a damn fit body to boot.

As Zoro watched Sanji's eyelids droop beneath his bangs, and those long blonde eyelashes fluttering softly shut, he realized it.

He'd finally met his rival.

S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/ S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/Z/S/Z/S/Z/S/S/ Z/S/Z/S/Z/S

Sanji woke up feeling as stiff and achy as when he had slumped down first on the table. It took him a moment to recollect his thoughts; all swirling and crawling around his head in protest. S

"O_kay," he slowly reasoned to himself, head still resting on the table, "So. I remember the Baratie. Yes. The time was...what -1ish?. And then...the Marimo was..."_

Sanji sat bolt upright as his brain scrambled to get its logical thought process working again. He was bombarded with multiple horrible realizations: one, the light coming in and illuminating the room was _not_ the fake, Baratie lighting used for dinners, but the bright, butter-gold rays of the breaking sun at dawn; two, his finances were very much _not calculated; _and finally, Sanji had no idea where Zoro was.

Damn.

Sanji thought back to the previous day...that guy had driven him mad. Everything about him was so obviously _not _what a waiter should be: polite, smooth, elegant, handsome, confident...

"Shit, there's absolutely no hope for my sanity..." _Sanji_ muttered to himself begrudgingly. He slowly pulled his aching bones up off the chair, and walked back slowly towards the kitchen. He wondered where Zoro was, and decided that the idiot had probably gone back to his home...wherever that was.

_"I wonder where Zoro lives...I wonder if Zoro lives alone..."_

Sanji shook his head, and ignored his own rhetorical questions; he'd find out more than enough about the guy in the next few days. He walked through the kitchen on his way to the little back office - after all, he had a few hours left till opening time; he could get the gist of all the necessary figures before the cooks arrived, and then...

Another day with Zoro.

Oddly, Sanji's heart didn't sink with dread as he thought it would. Yes; memories of that green-haired idiot's _ridiculous _internal compass (or lack of one) the day before; the mass broken plates; the complete void of manners, and a total inability to comprehend the concept of 'service with a smile', had left Sanji frustrated...but it had also been kinda fun, in hindsight._  
_

When tensions had risen, the immediate solution they came to was a fight - and Sanji was more than fine with that.

He walked briskly out into the corridor, and down towards the door of the back office. The lock was already on the latch, but before Sanji had a chance to question it, he heard a loud snore from inside.

And Sanji couldn't stop himself from smiling.


	8. Chapter 8

Despite the fact that his eyes were shut, Zoro was wide awake - he just didn't want every Tom, Dick and Sanji in the vicinity to know it.

With his hands clasped nonchalantly behind his head, feet propped up on the coffee table, and back sunk deep into the cushions of the couch, he was the picture of contentment and relaxation. He let his mouth fall open slightly, and he could hear his own snores softly reverberating through the silence of the room.

Suddenly, his ears perked up at the sound of light, nimble footsteps striding down the corridor. After a moment, he heard the door softly swing open; but still Zoro didn't move. There was a brief silence as he sensed the person who had opened the door pause, and watch him.

He refused to acknowledge that deep, blue eye gazing at him - he could literally _feel _it burning a hole into his face...

All of a sudden, Zoro thought he felt a soft brush of something near his head, and it was all he could not to lose face, and take a sharp intake of breath.

_What on earth...?_

Something warm ghosted over his ear, and he could feel soft, feathery strands of something tickling his cheek...his heart turned over in his chest. He was pretty sure it was the cook who had come in a moment ago, but somehow this current sensation didn't sit right...

The warmth on his cheek became stronger; there was a subtle scent of cigarettes lingering in his nose, seeming to drain away all his energy...

_"_Wake up, idiot."

Zoro nearly went into orbit.

His eyes flew open, and his head jerked up from the couch violently at the sound of a voice so close to his face. Almost as soon as he did so, a shooting pain shot through his skull; he heard the unmistakable sound - and felt the unmistakable impact - of a very strong head-bang erupting across his temples.

"Ouch, you moron! Watch what the hell your doing!"

When he heard this, Zoro raised his head, and scanned the room quickly for the voice.

Nobody...

Then Zoro slowly brought his eyes down to the floor beside the couch. Sanji lay sprawled on the floor against the coffee table, clutching his head in pain. Zoro blinked - his own brain significantly slower than normal thanks to the sudden throbbing sensation in his own head.

"Uh, what?" he said cleverly.

Sanji leveled a murderous glare at Zoro. He heaved a long, heavy sigh, and pulled himself to his feet. Zoro watched him as the cook fumbled around in his pocket for a cigarette. In no time at all, the cigarette was lit, it's end glowing as the cook inhaled deeply. Zoro watched the smoke slowly slip out from between those thin, pink lips, fascinated...

_How does he move so...gracefully? It's as if his fingers were made of water..._

All of a sudden, Sanji's voice broke him out of his daze.

"I thought you'd gone home already."

Zoro started, then a deep frown settled on his - slightly heated - face.

"But you said you had finances to do."

There was a pause.

"So what?"

"We haven't done them yet."

Sanji rolled his eyes, and plopped himself down on the couch beside Zoro.

"Correction," he stated, rubbing his eyes vigorously with his free hand. "_I _ haven't done them yet. You're just a trainee - they're not your priority, dumbass."

Zoro glared at the cook stubbornly.

"I know they're not my damn priority, idiot - that's not why I'm offering to help you're sorry ass."

The cook shot him another glare at the insult, but didn't retort - he was too damn tired. Instead, he slowly inhaled another lungful of smoke, his brow creased.

"Look Zoro, it's half past one in the morning. Get the fuck home, already will you?" Sanji stood up, and stretched, yawning tiredly."Tomorrow's gonna be a shitty enough day as it is; and believe me, you'd better be wide awake for our training - I've never seen skills as shocking as yours before..."

This last part was accompanied by a smirk, and a challenging glance was sent towards the green-haired man. Zoro grinned.

"Oh? You want to see skills, shit-cook?"

Sanji scoffed.

"I'm not sure you have any, dumbass - besides, I want to see your ass out that door and back home in the next five seconds."

Zoro frowned again at his, but held didn't move from the couch.

Several thoughts were racing through his mind: the first being that he didn't have anywhere called _home_ to go. Sure, there was Ace's apartment and Robin owned that hotel...he just just so sick of feeling like such a liability. Everyone who knew him, all his friends, had seen him go from an independent, in-control guy, to this poor, jobless youth - and within a few months. The frustration - the _humiliation _- was gut-wrenching...not to mention that by now it was the early hours of Monday morning, and he didn't exactly feel like he could just turn up on someone's doorstep, demanding the use of their couch. Again.

So, it hand't taken Zoro long to decide that he was going to leave the cook completely ignorant of his current situation- including his lack of apartment, clean clothes, money...everything, basically.

_"Hell no!" _Zoro thought.

He'd lose the cook's respect in a heartbeat - there'd be that same humiliating pity...

Zoro shook his head fiercely at the idea - and decided to wing it.

"I'm staying here, shit-cook, whether you like it or not." Zoro crossed his arms, as if to emphasize it, and smirked. "Although I'll bet you like it..."

Sanji eyed him curiously from a few feet away. For a while, he looked like he was contemplating...then finally, he let out a breathy sigh of...resignation?

"You're stubborn as a fucking mule..." he muttered, shaking his head. Then he looked up at Zoro again. "Why you so fucking keen on fiddling with the finances here anyway? Ha, you gonna try and rob me, marimo?"

Zoro raised his eyebrows, a smirk teasing the corner's of his mouth.

"Mm, on to pet names already, are we, cook?"

Before Sanji had a chance to protest, he continued.

"And for your information, if I was planning on robbing you, why would I even _need _any financial rubbish- I'd just beat you up and make a runner."

The cook scoffed, stubbing his cigarette out in a very conveniently-positioned ashtray.

"Hah! In your dreams, asshole. I believe we've already established that you're not good enough to beat me, grass-head...I think the roots from your forest-head must be constricting your brain..."

Zoro just gritted his teeth, and refused to take the bait. He glared at the cook again, proudly giving him the finger with a sneer.

"Finances. Now." He ground out, crossing his arms with a huff. Sanji just let out a low, baritone laugh at this display of petulant behavior, a smile settling on moist, pink lips. Zoro had to divert his eyes before he was caught staring a little _too _intently. He let out a barely audible growl._  
_

In all honesty, Zoro's anger was pretty faked. Completely, in fact.

Behind the mask, he was as pleased as punch - for the second time in as many days, he hadn'tbeen turned away - and better yet, he was already planning on making the cook laugh - _just like that - _as often as possible.

While winding him up of course.

* * *

The cook couldn't help but stare.

He watched as Zoro's fingers tapped away swiftly on the calculator, brow furrowed in concentration. A low rumble seemed to hover in the back of his throat as he mulled something over in his head, and then scribbled down a set of increasingly-complicated looking figures.

Sanji felt rather useless. Despite him having stressed - all too recently - that this was _not _Zoro's job, here he was, just sitting and watching as the green-haired man calculated these unknown figures at the speed of light.

_"How unexpected..." _Sanji mused to himself. "_And __I never even credited him with having brain cells..."_

He couldn't bring himself to disturb his studious company, so instead he lit up another cigarette, and settled down to wait.


	9. Chapter 9

It was eerily quiet. Too quiet. The only sound was the clock on the bedside table, whose incessant ticking was driving Ace mad.

"Since when did I ever have trouble sleeping?" he groaned, twisting over in his bed to try and find a more comfortable position.  
It was 3am on Monday morning, and he had to be for work in a few hours...

_"Screw it,"_ Ace thought with a grimace, as he sat up in bed for the millionth time that night, and swung his legs onto the warm carpeted floor.  
Annoyed, a little bit hung-over, and very tired, he did not want to be worrying over a certain green-haired, idiotic friend, whom he knew just happened to have no home, no money and no job...and who had just suddenly got up and left.

Ace stormed into the kitchen area, grabbed a can of beer from the fridge, and plopped himself down on the sofa. He stuffed his hand down the back of the couch, and (after sifting through the remnants of an ancient takeaway, about a weeks worth of wages of empty, crushed beer cans, and a bracelet belonging to a long-forgotten one-night stand) his fingers curled around a heavy, metal object.

"AHA!" He cried triumphantly, yanking out his laptop from the cushions. He blew a soft, black strand of hair out of his eyes, and grinned.  
As he lifted the lid, and saw the greasy fingerprints of his notoriously-messy brother plastered all over the screen, even he couldn't help but feel a little disgusted.  
But, shaking his head with a sigh, and getting on with his original purpose, he booted up the computer.

He had tried again and again to get a hold of Zoro's cell, but, not to his surprise, it went straight to answering machine every time. Despite the fact that he knew Zoro barely ever used it, the fact that the mobile was off _all the damn time was _bothering Ace.

Oh, that, and it totally defeated the point of having a cell in the first place.

Ace knew that if anyone could look after themselves fine, it was his friend...and yet he knew Zoro had been taking these last few weeks pretty hard...there was no need to worry.

Was there?

"_Gah..._." Ace grumbled, as he emptied the beer can in his hand, and threw the crushed metal off into the distant darkness of his bedroom.

_"What the hell do you think you're doing, running out on me like that? Have a little consideration for your best friend's peace of mind..."_

Maybe it was because Ace had always thought of Zoro from a brother's perspective; maybe it was because it was always Zoro who got him and little his brother through their lowest times...whatever the reason, Ace had felt, as soon as Zoro's life had started to crash, that it was his responsibility to get him through it.

That was what friends did.

That's what Zoro had always done for him...so why hadn't he done the same?

He _knew_ it wasn't really his fault, but he couldn't quite accept that. He was a man, and he was going to take the blame.

* * *

_Flashback_

_"Hey...I've had a great night tonight...you know, you really know how to dance."_

_Ace grinned broadly, his pride swelling at such a compliment from the lady he had his arm wrapped around._

_"Heh, I know how to do a lot of things," he whispered, winking at his girlfriend with a cheeky smile._

_The girl giggled coyly, and drew herself closer towards Ace's side as they walked down the street in the moonlight, towards Ace's apartment block. _

_The girl breathed out a long breath._

_"Hm...I can't wait to see your place at last - I've never even seen it before, let alone been inside it!" She elbowed him in the side playfully "What've you been hiding, my mystery man?"_

_Ace laughed nervously. _

_"Heh, I just like to build up the suspense...but then, I guess that's what made you fall so madly in love with me, right Vivi?"_

_A light laugh escaped the girl's lips, and she paused for a second before she spoke again._

_"Ace...you like me, right?"_

_The handsome man slowed his walk, until he's stopped altogether. Turning, he looked searchingly at Vivi's face, for the reason for the uncertainty he'd heard laced in her voice._

_"Of course I do. Why would you th-"_

_"I thought you'd never ask me out."_

_Ace raised his eyebrows when Vivi avoided his gaze. _

_"But...why? Everyone knew I'd had a crush on you since we were, like...I dunno, ten years old!"_

_Vivi smiled softly at that but let out a small sigh._

_"There were always so many...rumors. There still are, really, but when we got together, they sort of dissipated...more or less." She spoke so slowly,so thoughtfully. _

_Uh oh. Ace had a bad feeling about this. He could see his apartment block now, and the couple began walking again._

_"Rumors? How so?" He asked casually, desperately trying to ignore the warmth creeping up the back of his neck. _

_Vivi looked uncomfortable, and cleared her throat before speaking again in a small voice._

_"Well...people thought...everyone used to think that you were...you know...that you didn't really...do girls..." she stumbled, unable to stop herself. She had wanted to bring this up with Ace since their first date, and she couldn't quite forget it, even months on in their relationship._

_Ace was silent for a moment, wondering how to approach this...topic. They reached the door to his building, and Ace ;ed Vivi up the stairs slowly, still thinking. After a moment, and still ascending, he smiled nervously at his girlfriend._

_"I - can I ask you why?"_

_"...well...you didn't ever really have a girlfriend, for starters - just one-nights, here and there, or so I heard. Then, there was that nearly all the guys in our class fancied you, " she coughed, blushing again, "even the straight ones." _

_Ace ignored the fact that he felt his ego swell on hearing this (not that it was news to him - he'd always been quite the heartthrob), and looked at the silent Vivi beside him. _

_There was something else._

_"Vivi...that's not all, is it? There's something more...particular, isn't there?"_

_She nodded, and took a nervous breath._

_"A few weeks before we got together, we all headed out to Brewer's for drinks clubbing. You remember that?" Vivi's voice had hardened slightly, and Ace thought he could detect a slightly accusatory lilt to the tone._

_Ok, there really was something else. And he had a pretty good idea what._

_"Uh, yeah, that's right. I remember. It was you, me, Nami, Robin, Luffy, Franky, Usopp, Conis, Law...and Zoro."_

_"Yeah. And Zoro." _

_Vivi's was really worrying Ace now. He couldn't see her eyes, but he could tell her jaw was clenched tightly as they ascended the last few steps of the staircase. _

_If Ace had realized that Vivi had somehow heard about what had happened between him and Zoro at Brewer's that night, he'd never have tried to hide it- he'd have been honest, told her it was all a drunken mistake - they were best friends, always had been, and it was nothing more than a high-spirited, alcohol-fueled grope...he could barely even remember it! Not to mention the fact that he and Zoro had talked about the whole mistake the next morning, just to clear the air...there was never was, and never had been, anything romantic between the two friends. They were like brothers for god's sake!_

_But Vivi..._

_"So you...uh, you saw what happened then?" Ace grimaced, and decided to bite the bullet._

_Vivi turned to look at him at last, and held him with two, serious brown eyes._

_"I did. But I want to hear you out on it. I really like you, Ace...and I think you like me too." _

_The couple reached Ace's door, and the man reached inside his jacket pocket for the key. _

_"...so, if what we have is real, I want you to prove it to me."_

_Ace smiled with relief, and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek. _

_He was just about to open the door, when there was noise from the other side, and in a moment, Zoro was standing in the doorway. Towel round his neck, body steamy and damp, with nothing but a pair of boxers around his waist. _

_Before Ace could stop her, Vivi was already gone. _

* * *

The next day, Zoro had left Ace's apartment like usual, to try and reconstruct his life.

But he hadn't come back.

Ace knew Zoro must have felt completely responsible for the misunderstanding with Vivi , and had high-tailed it out of Ace's apartment as soon as possible.

Ace frowned. Vivi'd come round; he wasn't worried there. They loved each other, and they both knew it.

But Zoro...Zoro was already in a tight place, mentally and financially, and until Ace found out that he had the support he needed (that which Ace was no longer in a position to give), he couldn't be happy.

He had to find some way to help him.

* * *

"Ok, marimo, let's see you."

"I am not coming out."

"Don't be such a girl! Get your ass out here, idiot."

"Nope. How the fuck do I get this on anyway?!"

Sanji rolled his eyes as sounds of frustrated scuffling permeated through the curtain of the changing-room. He put his hands on his hips, and smirked.

"Marimo, meet "the tie". "Tie" meet Marimo." Sanji dead-panned, whisking open the curtain of the cubicle where Zoro was changing.

"Gah!" Zoro yelled, as his protective shield disappeared, and the cook strode into the little room boldly. "What the hell is wrong with you!? You can't just barge in here!"

Sanji ignored the accusations, and raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of Zoro's attempts to tie the fabric around his collar.

"You are, in the nicest way possible, an embarrassment to men around the world. You know that?"

Zoro growled menacingly, and swatted Sanji's pale hand away as it came up to seize the mess around his throat.

Sanji laughed, and smirked at the man, who was standing incredible close in front of him.

"You're completely hopeless, moron! What you've done is turn a tie into a bloody bouquet! So _this _is one of your famous _skills, _right grass-head?"

Zoro's face turned significantly redder, and without hesitating, he grabbed the cook by his collar, and shook the smiling man vigorously.

"Either get the fuck out of my personal space, bastard, or help me get this off so we can leave this pretentious hole, and buy some proper, _wearable _clothes ELSEWHERE!"_  
_

Sanji held his hands up in surrender, and grinned as Zoro let his shirt go roughly. He huffed as the cook reached out to untangle his neck from the rope-like garment.

As soon as it was off, Sanji suddenly leaned into Zoro's face once more, smiled indulgently, and cooed:

"There, there now...isn't that all better, you poor little marimo~?"

The vein had barely popped on Zoro's forehead, before he was already pursuing the cook onto the streets.


	10. Chapter 10

It didn't take Sanji long to decide that Zoro wasn't a good shopping-buddy. No, not in any way, shape, or form.

"If I ever have to do this again, I swear I'm gonna lose it..." Sanji muttered under his breath, as Zoro trailed behind him like a sulky adolescent, his lips pushed out in a barely-there pout.

This whole scene was seriously pissing Sanji off. After hounding him out of the last clothes store they'd tried, and with promises of a broken limb or two, Zoro had finally given up the chase (after all, there was no way he going to beat THE Sanji when it came to leg strength and stamina).

However, the green-haired man had simply refused to co-operate ever since Sanji's _ever so slight_ teasing of him earlier that day.

Ok, maybe it wasn't quite as slight as he'd meant it to be...but COME ONE!

It had never even occurred to him that the idiot marimo would have had such SO GREAT an image of himself not to be able to withstand a few good-hearted (yet all the while, condescending) comments here and there.

The cook sighed, and slowed his footsteps until he'd stopped. He didn't turn around yet, but he could sense that Zoro had stopped a few yards behind him. He gritted his teeth, and counted to ten.

There had been plenty of people around them in the shopping center, but now,at 4pm on a Monday afternoon, even that flow of people had started to ebb away - so Sanji was hyper-aware of every move Zoro had been making out of his peripheral for the last hour.

And it had been driving absolutely, unbelievably, fucking CRAZY. Especially when the idiot kept on PRETENDING to disappear every two seconds, giving Sanji a damn heart attack -only for him to see a tuft of green emerging from behind some weird passer-by's afro or something. Neither man moved for a second, each waiting for the other to bridge this, very trying, gap at last.

Unsurprisingly, Sanji cracked first, after about 8 minutes of standing stock still and waiting for Zoro to draw alongside of him. Sighing heavily, he thrust his hands into his pockets, swallowed his pride, and turned around to face his green-haired charge.

"Oi, what the hell, Zoro? Why have yo-"

Sanji didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence, because before he did, it struck him.

Zoro was asleep.

Zoro was fucking asleep. Standing. In the middle of a shopping center. Asleep.

It took a minute for what Sanji was seeing to register in his brain: Zoro - hands lost in the folds of his khaki-jacket's pockets, his frame slouched, head slightly bent, eyes shut, and a soft snore which Sanji could barely hear -was completely out of it.

After recovering from the this revelation, Sanji cautiously approached his companion (who, to any other, uneducated passer-by, was just a regular, aloof adolescent), and peered into his face.

"Yep," Sanji thought, his eyes softening, "definitely asleep..."

He let the bags he was carrying drop carelessly to the ground on either side of him, and gently placed a hand on Zoro's shoulder, and lifted his head to his ear.

"Oi..." He accompanied this with a light shake, and slowly, Zoro's dark, hazy eyes flickered open. For a second, they just looked at each other, Zoro's eyelashes fluttering as he took in the cook's round, bright blue orb...  
Momentarily, Sanji's breath caught slightly, and he lost himself in that dark, almost _powerful_, gaze; then, with a violent blush stretching itself across his cheeks, he realized just how close he'd been to Zoro's face.

He stumbled back a few steps in confusion and horror, a very quiet squeak slipping out from his lips.

Zoro just looked blearily at him for a second; then the most (Sanji could only describe it as) _adorable_ smile settled on his lips.

"Cook..."

Sanji was almost deafened by a very sudden, very loud, thud from his chest, his heart twisting and turning uncontrollably.

_WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!_

Sanji could't get his neck to stop feeling so hot, his thoughts torturing him at a million miles a second.

_SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT COULD I HAVE DONE ANYTHING WEIRDER! WHAT THE HELL'S A GUY MEANT TO THINK WHEN HE WAKES UP TO FIND ANOTHER DUDE BREATHING IN HIS EAR LIKE THAT!? AND WITH A FACE AS RED AS A FUCKING BABOON'S ASS?! AND WHY THE HELL AM I BLUSHING, GODDDAMIT!_

Ok, so Sanji knew wasn't the calmest person on earth - he was acutely aware of himself, so that any lapse in his judgement meant severe reproaching was in store for his next forty-eight hours. But today, for some typical, aggravating reason, he just could not get it together fast enough. Zoro frowned, his sleep-like thought process returning to normal when he realized that the cook was acting oddly - silent, looking at him like he'd grown two heads, and...was he feverish?

Zoro took a hurried step closer to the slightly trembling blonde, his hand outstretched urgently.

_Oi...he looks like he's gonna fall..._

He was just about to grab him round the waist, when Sanji shook his head violently. He lept to the side, swept the discarded bags off the ground, and hurried past Zoro before he could pin him down.

"Hurry up, you moron! What the hell did you think you were doing, falling asleep on me like that?! I mean, is that even possible?!" Sanji blurted out, his voice sounding...strained.

He turned to look angrily at the green-haired man, who was unmoving, and looking at him suspiciously.

"Oi...are you ok? You don't look so good, idiot-cook..."

Sanji rolled his eyes, willing him to look a little more normal than he felt.

"Pah, I'm _fine_, marimo. Don't worry that little grass-head of yours over me. Trust me, I'm _way _too complex for your pea-brained mind to comprehend, so don't even bother..."

Sanji grinned to himself as he saw Zoro bristle at the multiple insults, and bear his teeth.

"You want a fight, bastard?"

_Perfect__...just as I'd planned_...

The cook's eye twinkled with mirth and excitement...but there was something else. He grinned.

"Nope...another race!"

All of a sudden, Sanji turned tail, and ran like the wind towards the winding staircase at the center of the mall, leaving only a battle cry in his wake, "Beat you to the Baratie, shithead!"

Zoro's jaw hit the floor, and he glared fiercely at the cook's (very unfair, and very head-started!) declaration of war, but nevertheless, he gave chase after him, for the second time that day.

* * *

Time always pissed Zoro off.

It was slow when you were bored, fast when you were busy, and downright _cruel _when you wanted something to last forever. But hey, that's life.

After shopping around all day as they had done on Monday, Zoro was very glad that there was no more of _that _to deal with.

Monday morning had led Sanji to announce that before Zoro could even think about being his personal waiter he'd have to look the part. Which apparently meant buying a posh, swanky (and yet somehow) _comfortable _suit to fit the bill.

Now, Zoro could deal with following the cook around all day as he bargained with stores and tailors; he could deal with the fact that Sanji had let every damn woman in the queue jump in front of him...hell, he found that just being with a guy like Sanji lifted his mood. Even if he tried not to show it.

_"There's something about this guy..." _Zoro had mused to himself, watching Sanji as he ghosted soft, pale fingers over clothes racks, packed full of blazers and shirts. _"He's...what is he? Nice?"_ Zoro scoffed to himself. _"Ok__ no, definitely not nice. Is he kind? Hm, not to me anyway. Bastard. Rugged? Nah, wrong. He's not rugged, more like...pretty. Charming. Charismatic..."_

And this was how Zoro had spent his Monday shopping with the cook - pondering the guy's merits, calculating his character, and trying to work him out. He'd failed badly, which was one of the reasons that Sanji's quip about him being too complex for Zoro to get had really bugged him.

After that, he'd fixed the cook with a constant stare, and stalked him, determined to find out what this _thing _about the cook, which he couldn't put his finger on, was that made him seem so unique to the green-haired man.

Zoro sighed, and rubbed his forehead. He was getting nowhere like this. Despite trying so hard to figure the cook out, he was still as much of an enigma to Zoro now as he had been all morning.

Inevitably, Sanji had won their miniature race to the Baratie - after all, Zoro had argued, not only had the cook cheated and had a 5 second head-start, but also Zoro had only just woken up, so a race was hardly what he was geared for.

Having stopped in the alleyway beside the Baratie, with both men panting slightly after their sudden sprint, Sanji pulled out a large, gold-colored lighter, and placed a cigarette between parted lips.

He quirked a curly eyebrow at Zoro, who was leaning against the wall opposite him, and smirked at Zoro's excuse.

"Don't give me that. " he laughed lightly, "You're just a sore loser!"

"I didn't even agree to a race! Stop twisting things to suit yourself, dartbrow!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear your excuses over the fanfare of my victory..."

"You...!"

Zoro lunged for the cook without hesitating another second (god knows he was asking for it). He was inches from delivering a blow to Sanji's stomach, when the cook raised his free hand up in front of him.

"Stop right there, Zoro." He stated firmly. "I'm not fighting you here, the old man told us not to show our faces at the restaurant til a week is up, remember? I'm not having him catching us killing each other outside the window, no matter how much I want to kick your ass."

Before Zoro could retaliate, Sanji had interrupted again.

"I'm only here to pick up some stuff, and tell Zeff to expect a call from the tailors about your suit any day now." He pushed Zoro away from him lightly, and sauntered past him towards the Baratie's side door.

Zoro just watched him go, his teeth gritted, eyes angry, and stance as threatening as he could make it.

_God he riles me up so fucking mu-_

"Oh yeah..." said the blonde playfully, as he opened the door, and turned his head slightly to glance at Zoro. "now don't wander off on me, marimo."

And with that, Sanji disappeared into the inner workings of the Baratie.

**A/N : Sorry to all my readers who had to wait so long for Chapter 9...here's a really, super fast update to make up for it (*beams proudly* that makes 2 updates in 3 days, people!).**

** Oh, and thank you SO much for all the wonderful reviews I've been getting - they make my day and I love hearing what you all think! I promise that I'll try and tailor my story to keep everyone happy! :3**


	11. Chapter 11

Zoro had no problems waiting for the cook - it'd give him the chance to take a nice, long nap. Again.

Leaning against the wall, he folded his arms, and closed his eyes; the city was just starting to wind down, and it seemed quiet and mellow in the alleyway. That was, until a sharp, sudden vibration reverberated through Zoro's jeans.

Zoro rolled his eyes, and fished around in his pocket for his phone.

_Damn gadget..._

He finally found it, and peered at the screen.

_...Ace?_

Slightly nervous, he answered.

"Uh, hey..."

"Zoro!" Ace's voice sounded both relieved, and somewhat strained. " Where the hell have you been!?"

Zoro frowned in confusion at his friend's tone.

"Ugh...what?"

He heard Ace heave a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Jeez...you're eloquent as always." He paused from a second. "You had me worried, man. You just disappear from my apartment, and no-one hears from you for, like, 3 days..."

Zoro felt the annoyance bubbling in his gut. There it was again. That lingering tone...those unspoken words of how people didn't think Zoro could take care of his own life anymore.

"Listen Ace, it's ONLY been 3 damn days. You expect me to inform all my acquaintances of every bloody move I make? I can take care of myself, you know - I don't need a babysitter." Zoro couldn't stop his voice from becoming a growl, even if this was Ace. In fact, the fact that it WAS Ace was pissing him off even more!

Another sigh crackled over the receiver, and Ace cleared his throat.

"Hey, I know, I know...I just - I was just - I mean, I didn't know you had somewhere else you could go, and I didn't want you to feel like...think that I didn't want - that you couldn't come over to mine. If you needed to, I mean..." Ace garbled out this half-apologetic, half-supportive line, trying to smooth over his earlier blunder.

Zoro let his back slide down the side of the wall, til he was sitting on the concrete. He didn't say anything - he just waited for Ace to continue on with this, so far very awkward, conversation.

On the other end of the line, Ace adjusted his sitting position on his couch, and took a deep breath.

_Ok, c'mon Ace - time to change the topic._

"So, umm...did you get any luck? At the employment agency, I mean..."

_Oh yeah - that's a real great change of topic right there. Idiot._

To Ace's surprise, Zoro's tone sounded a little brighter; like he was smiling quietly to himself.

"Not exactly. But I did get a job. Well, sort of."

Ace grinned.

"Yeah?! That's awesome, Zoro! What is it? When did you get it? What did they - "

Zoro cut him off with a deep, rumbling laugh, making Ace was smile so hard his jaw began to ache.

"Hey, you know I'm not gonna tell you about it over the phone, right? I hate even having a mobile phone, and I'm not using it more than I have to."

"Dude...this is the twenty-first century. You can't NOT have a phone! What the hell are people supposed to do if they need to talk to you?"

"Come and find me."

"...you sound like a serial killer, Zoro."

"Don't give me any ideas."

There was a brief silence then - both friends just happy for their own reasons. After a moment or two, Ace spoke again, his voice light and carefree.

"Ok, then, Mr. Cryptic, get your ass over here now and give me an update. If you were at work now, you wouldn't be on the phone, so no excuses."

Zoro pondered this for a moment.

Technically he WAS at work; every moment during this week, he was obliged to get Sanji to 'teach' him as many tricks of the trade as could be managed, without them actually being allowed into the restaurant (which, unfortunately, was greatly hindering any potential progress the cook and his protegee had been hoping to make). Nevertheless, Zoro still had the basics to learn - walking with a tray full of drinks was proving tricky, as was putting on a forthcoming demeanor for half the day. That, _especially that_, was hard for the notoriously stoic green-haired man.

Zoro sighed.

"Look, I don't know, Ace...I've sorta gotta be on call until Saturday, and that's when the real work begins, so..."

Just then, the door opened, and Sanji appeared, carrying a big cardboard box in his arms. He was about to speak, but then he saw Zoro down on the floor, registered the phone in his hand, he placed the box down on the floor, and began to walk away from the alley.  
Zoro coughed.

"...uh, I'd better go Ace, there's -"

All of a sudden, Sanji leaped back in front of the green-haired man, waving his arms madly, and shaking his head just as vehemently. Zoro arched an eyebrow in surprise - even more so when the cook held up his hands, and then made a rolling motion with one of them. He backed away from Zoro, and went to stand a little way from him in the mouth of the alleyway, watching the the building rush of people commute for their end of day journey. He took out a cigarette packet and a lighter from his pocket, lit one, and stared ahead of him, seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts.

"Oi, Zoro - you still there?" Ace's voice brought Zoro back to the real world; at some point, he'd obviously drifted.

"Uh, yeah, I am. Look, I'll see what I can do, ok? I don't know if I can, but I'll message you later."

Ace huffed on the other end of the phone in mock irritation.

"Bah, Zoro...you're so fucking flaky. I'll catch you later then?"

"Yeah...see ya."

Zoro hung up the phone, and the silence that now hung in the air seemed deafening. For some reason, uneasiness had enveloped Zoro when he realized that Sanji was hearing their conversation; he'd been terrified that a tongue-in-cheek jibe from Ace would tell Sanji something about Zoro's previous difficulties...

_Shit...I think I'm getting paranoid..._

Rising to his feet, he cleared his throat, and walked over towards the silently smoking cook.

"Oi, cook. Sorry bout that; can't get that guy to shut up for anything."

Sanji turned his head slowly to face him, breathing out a stream of thin, nicotine-scented smoke. He regarded Zoro lazily with one eye for a second.

"A friend of yours?"

Zoro shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked ahead.

"I guess you could say that. Known the guy for forever; so yeah, a friend of mine."

Sanji smirked around the stick in his mouth.

"Good. I didn't think you had any, you know." Sanji paused for a second, giving Zoro ample time to take offence, but he spoke again before the other man could interject, " I mean, I've been with you since Friday; you haven't even called a single soul since you got this job."

Zoro fixed the cook with a fierce glare, and crossed his arms defiantly.

"Mind your own business, bastard. I'm not obliged to pander to other people's whims everyday of my fucking life." Zoro smirked then himself. "Besides...you haven't either, you know. Hypocrite."

"What!?" Sanji's eyes went wide with indignation. "That's totally different! I've been at work, idiot-marimo! I see a load of colleagues everyday, and I can't go out at night when I've got to be up at 5 a.m. on shift! You can't compare the two of us - our situations couldn't be more different!"

Zoro raised his eyebrows, and grinned. He drew forward into Sanji's personal space.

"I beg to differ, dartbrow. As of last Friday, I've been working too."

Sanji growled slightly, and met Zoro's challenge, rising up into the other man's face.

"You could've fooled me. You've done nothing but moan, all day, every day, like a five year old child! How's that meant to-"

Sanji stopped then, and the angry look drained away from his face. It was never real anger when arguing with Zoro anyway - just this really exaggerated, played up version of being pissed-off; a way to justify grappling with the man on the floor.

"Hey. Haven't you got to be somewhere?"

Zoro frowned. The cook was doing this mood swinging again.

"...I don't get you."

Sanji pointed at the phone in Zoro's hand.

"Your friend. It sounded like he'd asked you to meet up." Sanji turned around away from Zoro, and headed over to pick up the box he'd left by the door. "Go on. It's not like we can do anything more productive at this time of the evening. We'll start training again tomorrow."

Zoro watched Sanji suspiciously for a moment. He seemed...Zoro wasn't sure. Bored? Annoyed? Uninterested?

"...You sure? I mean, I haven't even learnt how to carry the damn trays yet."

Sanji chuckled, and held the box close to his chest as they left the alleyway, and walked out onto the street.

"I know that, idiot, but we have plenty of time. Anyway, it's better for you to see this guy, or your friends are gonna think I've murdered you or something. That, " he said with smirk, " and I can get some peace - and some sanity - back while you're gone."

That gave Zoro an excellent idea.

"Oi cook..." he said, trying to hide the twinkle in his eye, "You've gotta meet my friends."

* * *

It didn't take long for Zoro to realize that this may not have been one of his best ideas.  
Ok, it was definitely one of his worst.

"Why did I let you talk me into this..." Sanji muttered, following Zoro up the stairs of an unfamiliar apartment complex. "And anyway, why can't we use the bloody elevator?"

Zoro silently cursed himself. He'd agonized so much recently about how to stop Sanji from getting any ideas about the rut he'd been in, only to realize he'd dug himself a hole bigger than the Grand Canyon by inviting the cook to go with him to Ace's place.

"I didn't fucking force you to come, you know. " the green-haired man growled, angry at himself, but deciding that the cook could more than take the cold-shoulder, "If you're that much of a hermit, feel free to crawl back into your shell, dartbrow."

Sanji sneered behind at Zoro's back.

"Me? The hermit? Ever-looked in the mirror, mossball?"

"Ever NOT looked in the mirror, eyebrows?"

Sanji answered with a sharp prod in Zoro's back, and he was rewarded with a, very satisfying, 'oomph'. The cook smirked when Zoro whirled around, hands up as if to lunge at him, and got ready to slip out of reach. Anticipating Zoro's grab, Sanji side-stepped (as much as he could in a crammed stairwell anyway), and gave Zoro another light kick to the back. This time, however, Zoro was too fast, he whirled around sharply, grabbed the cook's leg mid-air, and twisted to knock him off-balance.  
It didn't occur to either man that fighting on the staircase of a ten-story apartment complex was going to end badly - until both men felt their shoes slipping, their balance toppling...and so began a very long - and very painful - descent.

Step after step, floor and floor, the two men rolled and toppled without stopping, fighting all the way - a tangle of limbs (one man kicking and pinching, the other grabbing and twisting), with cries of 'damn it!' and 'fuck you!' reverberating all the while throughout the building.

Finally, they fell in a crumpled heap at the bottom.

Bruised, panting, aching, and sore, neither man wanted to summon the energy, or spirit, to disentangle themselves from the other (the insults had already stopped after they passed the fifth floor).

After about a minute of trying to get the world to come back into focus, Sanji, whose body had managed to land more or less on top of Zoro's stomach, slowly pulled himself up. Zoro did the same under him, both men too absorbed in feeling their own pain to register the other's existence for a moment.

Then a little vein appeared on Sanji's forehead.

"You fucking IDIOT! Look what you've done!"

Zoro couldn't believe this...it was just too rich coming from the man who STARTED the whole stairwell-fighting idea!

"ME?! I'm not the one who starts prodding others in the back on a staircase!"

"Oh you poor thing, did I hurt you?" Sanji sneered sarcastically. "You're just a wimp!"

That got Sanji pinned to the floor in two seconds flat, his arms locked behind him by Zoro, who had twisted the cook onto his stomach with a quick, violent flick of the wrist.

" Take. That. Back." Zoro spat viciously.

"Over my dead-body, asshole!"

Suddenly, a loud, boisterous laugh erupted from behind the pair.

"Ahem...am I interrupting something?"

**A.N/ Gah! I'm so sorry this update took so long! I got it out a.s.a.p, but I haven't had a chance to reply to all my lovely reviews and PM's...BUT I WILL! EVEN IF IT'S MONTHS OVERDUE, I WILL! **

**Hope the update was enjoyable :3 **


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